Of Pirates and Beasts
by thesadchicken
Summary: Belle has always wanted adventure, and one doesn't seem to be enough to last a lifetime. But when she and her friends set sail for the West Indies, they are far from imagining the perils and feats that await them. "Beauty and the Beast" meets "Pirates of the Caribbean".
1. Chapter 1

Adventure in the great wide Somewhere

Somewhere over the Atlantic, a large ship was sailing towards the Indies. Its mast rose high and proud, piercing the clouds with pompous delight. Every wave seemed to crash upon its hull with meekness, crushed by the utter grandeur of the vessel. Above it flew the French colors, _bleu blanc rouge_ , fluttering proudly in the wind.

Belle replaced a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear and watched the sun set over the horizon. It was a fine evening, neither hot nor cold, and a salty breeze could be felt. As daylight waned and the smallest of stars began dancing across the sky, Belle's head was full of imaginings and musings: dreaming of adventures to come, she laid her palms upon the ship's wooden balustrade and smiled.

Mornings aboard a large ship were busy, to say the least. Belle hadn't had the chance to witness the night shift yet, but she hoped it was at least as exciting as early morning activities. As she slowly paced the deck, avoiding collision with the frenzied crew, she was joined by Captain Stamper – a tall man with a bushy moustache and a pleasant face.

"I hope yer quarters are to yer liking, madam?" he asked, bowing politely.

"Yes, they are. Thank you Captain," Belle smiled back at him.

"We'll be arriving at Port Royal in about two weeks, if I am not mistaken," he continued in a reassuring sort of voice, beaming proudly at the horizon.

"So soon," Belle sighed softly.

She was enjoying their voyage aboard the _Indomptable_ , and she wasn't keen on seeing land just yet. All the activity, the orders being shouted, the men climbing the rigging… the shanties! And the coming and going below deck was very mysterious indeed. It set Belle's imagination ablaze. She had even started writing a book – well, a story really, nothing too serious of course, although perhaps one day she might get it properly published, that is, if she ever finished it, because _really_ …

Her train of thought was interrupted by Adam's hand gently tugging at her elbow.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," Captain Stamper bowed again. Belle suppressed a giggle as she watched the uniformed man squirm with ill-concealed pride and admiration.

"Good morning Captain," Adam gave him a polite smile and quickly turned away. Stamper understood this as being a sign from the Prince to be left alone with his wife, and he dutifully stepped away.

"It's not that I don't like him," Adam whispered to Belle, once the captain was far enough, "but he tends to get… well, he's a bit too chatty for my taste."

Belle laughed. "He is, isn't he? But then he really is a good man as well."

"I never said he wasn't," Adam shrugged, "just a tad talkative."

They walked for a while, gazing at each other and then at the sea, taking turns smiling mischievously every time a wave pushed them against each other. At such an early stage of their marriage, every touch was welcomed – nay, _craved_. Belle was starting to wonder if they could spend a little time alone in their quarters, at least until lunch time. She shared her thoughts with Adam, who bit his lower lip and took her hand in his.

The ship rocked them both to sleep as they reclined naked on their bed. It was smaller than any bed they had shared at the palace, but still much larger than anything Belle had slept on before she'd met Adam. She was drifting in and out of a peaceful slumber when she heard a knock on the door. Two knocks, polite but insistent.

"Yes?" Belle called out, making Adam groan in his sleep.

"It is me, _madame_ ," Plumette answered from behind the closed door, "The Captain is expecting you; lunch has been served."

Belle rubbed her eyes and pushed herself off the bed. She was glad she had brought Plumette along with them – they really needed a healthy reminder from time to time that they were, in fact, royalty, and not wild bunnies. They were expected to behave as such, as much as Belle abhorred the notion.

"I'll be right there," Belle answered, quickly getting dressed.

She roused Adam, who naturally made a fuss and refused to leave bed until she threatened him, then they both made their way to the Captain's quarters, looking as guilty as a couple of thieves. Plumette accompanied them as usual, grinning to herself.

Lunch was everything except quiet of course, what with Captain Stamper's incessant jabbering. For what Belle thought was the fifth time, he asked them – _beggin' yer pardon, Your Majesties, and if you'd allow me_ – what their business was in the West Indies. Again, Belle unashamedly answered that it was a whim, a desire for adventure that had made her ask this of her husband. She wanted to see the world, and Adam was all too happy to oblige; he had commissioned a ship and a crew and here they were.

 _He must think me one of those impossibly petulant ladies who spend their time pestering their wealthy husbands for jewels and voyages_ , Belle thought. No matter. She wanted adventure, and if a few people thought her mad for that, then so be it.

Then the Captain moved on to something else, telling them about a strange ship that had been spotted that morning on the horizon. It turned out to be a harmless British freighter after all, which made the entire story less interesting, and Belle's mind floated away.

Her thoughts had turned to her book – _story_ , that is – when a loud _bang_ resounded. Another one followed, and the mighty ship shook, making the fine cutlery on their table fall to the deck with a clatter.

"What was that?" Belle asked, noting the panicked looks on the Captain and First Mate's sunburnt faces.

"Nothin' to concern yerself with, Your Majesty," Stamper said as he jumped to his feet and ran out onto the deck with his First Mate. "Please, don't leave this room," he cried over his shoulder.

Remaining alone at the table, Adam, Belle and Plumette stared at each other with growing concern. A few more bangs echoed throughout the ship, and again they were violently shaken about.

"Gunfire?" Plumette asked.

"Canons…" Adam said, shaking his head.

Belle swallowed nervously. "Do you think… could it be?"

They dared not say it, but they all thought it – _pirates_.


	2. Chapter 2

I. Pirates!

As they raced out onto the main deck, Plumette thought of Lumiere. He was back in France, safe and sound, probably cooking or playing cards with Chapeau. The thought made her long for home, and not for the first time since the beginning of their voyage, she regretted accepting Belle's courteous invitation. If only she had stayed, she'd be enjoying her lover's cooking at the moment, or running around the gardens causing mischief, giggling like a child, with Lumiere at her side…

But instead she was here, so far from home and so close to the bottomless, merciless ocean.

The deck was alive with sailors running around, brandishing pistols and swords and all sorts of weapons. Captain Stamper was at the helm shouting orders, sweat trickling down his furrowed brow. And there, a few meters off the _Indomptable_ 's starboard, was a positively terrifying ship: small and stealthy, it sailed with impressive speed, the mouth of its cannons spitting smoke into the sky. A Pirate Flag had been hoisted; the skull and crossbones seemed to be grinning at them menacingly. But what was most extraordinary was the color of the ship's sails. Black as coal, they were unlike anything Plumette had ever seen. They seemed unnatural in the afternoon sunlight.

Plumette stared in awe, unable to look away. The ship wasn't as big as the _Indomptable_ , but it was undeniably faster and a lot more threatening. Across the deck, ruffians of all sorts were scattered, sneering and shouting and slicing the air with their swords.

Plumette tore her gaze away from the horrible sight. She looked about wildly, searching for Belle and Adam. She saw them standing a few feet away, bodies pressed together in alarm. Once again her heart ached for Lumiere's comforting presence, but she shook herself and hurried towards her friends.

"What are we to do?" she cried, panic now coursing freely through her veins, although she had barely had time to realize the danger.

Adam was the first to speak. "We must escape. Get away, no matter what."

Belle joined in. "The escape hatch! There must be small boats we can use."

The three of them ran off, pushing past panicked crewmen as they made their way to the escape hatch. A small explosion boomed behind them, accompanied by a loud thud. Plumette instinctively ducked, hiding her face with her hands, but Adam grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her forward. "No time to lose! They're already onboard!" he shouted.

Running in a gown was rather easy for Plumette, accustomed as she was to swift escapes from Cogsworth's wrath back at the castle. But Belle could hardly keep up, what with her heavy skirts flowing about and the fabric pooling around her knees, no matter how high she pulled it.

Adam kept turning nervously to pull his wife forward, but she protested loudly, urging him to continue running. Plumette darted past a sailor and reached the escape hatch, but she quickly realized it was too late. Emerging from the hatch itself, a partly bald brute flashed an uneven smile at her. "'Ello puppet," he snickered.

Gasping, Plumette turned around, only to be met by more pirates, blocking her way completely. Shaking, she looked around for something to defend herself with. Alas, the deck was empty but for the smelly, sweaty bodies of the pirates and the bloodstains of the sailors. Fear wrapped itself around Plumette's chest like a venomous serpent.

She could hear little over the pounding of blood in her ears, but one cry for mercy was particularly loud. It was Captain Stamper's voice, unnaturally high-pitched, and it went on screaming for a moment longer before being silenced. Plumette closed her eyes, knowing very well that it was over now. The ship was no longer theirs.

She felt calloused palms grab her by the arms as she was roughly pushed ahead, but she kept her eyes shut. She did not want to see – if this was truly the end, she would not give her butchers the satisfaction of seeing fear in her eyes. Holding her head high, she let them lead her to the main deck.

They stopped so suddenly that Plumette thought she would lose her balance. A grave, booming voice then proclaimed, "The ship is ours, boys!"

This statement was met by a chaos of applause and cries of victory. "Yer captain is dead; yer ship be mine now," the voice continued, addressing someone in the crowd, "But you, yer majesty," a few pirates laughed at the mocking use of the title, "you may prove to be a valuable prisoner. Pray tell: where be the other half of the royal couple?"

Plumette understood that the thundering voice was that of the pirate captain, and that Prince Adam was being addressed. She gritted her teeth, hoping that Belle had escaped.

When no answer came from Adam, the pirate captain spoke again. "Suit yerself. Boys; kill all remainin' prisoners."

Plumette felt the blade of a sword being pressed again her neck, and she drew in a shuddering breath. This was it, this was it _oh mon dieu_ this was really it…

"Wait, stop!" Adam yelled, and Plumette opened her eyes.

Two pirates were grasping her arms and one of them had slipped his sword across her chest, pressing it against her body. In front of her, amidst the victorious crew, Adam was standing as still as he could, his hands bound and his jacket torn.

"Belle, my wife," he started, hesitant, "she's here. It's her," he nodded in Plumette's direction.

The pirate captain – a threatening figure with a scar running across his eye and over his cheek – turned towards her with raised eyebrows. "Milady," he once again mocked them, "you shall join yer lovin' husband in the brig." He then motioned to his men and before she could say a word Plumette was being dragged to the lower decks and thrown into the brig.

A few moments later, Adam was thrown in after her.

" _Mon Dieu_ ," Plumette panted. Her legs could no longer support her and she let herself fall onto the dirty floor. She could feel tears stinging her eyes but she refused to cry. Looking up at Adam, she composed herself enough to speak. "What happened? I don't understand. Where's –"

"Shhh," Adam interrupted her, crouching down beside her and lowering his voice, "they must not know. As long as they think you're my wife you are safe." He sighed heavily. "Belle escaped. She's out there. I know she'll find a way…"

His voice trailed off, and Plumette could feel his inner turmoil through his words. She took his hands into hers and squeezed them reassuringly. "She will find a way," she repeated his words confidently.

But until then they were prisoners aboard what was now a pirate ship. The captain probably expected to demand a ransom in exchange for their safety.

But who, here in the Caribbean, knew of them?


	3. Chapter 3

I. Seeking Help

Belle felt a strong burn in her throat as she spat out more seawater. She held an unsteady hand to her chest and breathed hard. Her lungs felt compressed and scorched. She was dizzy with effort and lack of air, but at least she'd made it.

She remembered everything in a great blur. When the pirates had attacked, she had fallen behind and watched Adam and Plumette run for safety. When she had seen that there was no escape her initial instinct was to flee, but she could not leave her friends to their doom. Running as fast as she could, she had reached Adam's side. But before she could utter a single word, he had pushed her, throwing her off the ship. She had jumped into the water head first, with no plan and no idea what to do next.

She had then swam away as fast as she could, tearing layers of her gown off to free her movements, and soon both ships had sailed out of sight and she had continued swimming aimlessly for quite some time.

At last, a merchant ship had spotted her and hurled her aboard. It was a Spanish vessel, but the captain spoke both French and English. She had managed to explain her situation to him and ask for his help. He had agreed to take her to the nearest and safest port.

With a heavy heart, Belle had sailed aboard the Spanish ship for two days, eyes locked onto the horizon most of the time. She had slept only a few hours each night, unable to find peace. When she closed her eyes, nightmares tormented her; images of bloodthirsty pirates and frightened blue eyes. She ate little and spoke to no one.

When they had first spotted the port – a tiny speck in the distance – the Spanish captain had asked Belle for payment. Surprised by his sudden request, she had apologized and explained that she was penniless: all she possessed now were the clothes on her back. The captain had smiled at this and had suggested she take-off said clothes and join him in his personal quarters – _that would be payment enough_.

Indignant, Belle had spat at the captain's feet and jumped off his ship, plunging into the cold waters. Looking back at him from where she swam, she had told him just what she thought of his 'tiny boat' and insulted his ship too, for good measure.

Now here she was, struggling to regain her strength after swimming all the way to the small port. She heaved herself onto the nearest wooden deck she could find. Cursing the captain and his crew, she let herself fall onto her back and breathe.

She did not know where she was exactly, but she knew it must be somewhere off the coast of Cuba. She remembered Adam showing her the map, his slender fingers pointing each stop and his gentle voice speaking of each wonder they would come across together. _Together_.

Belle closed her eyes. He had saved her, and although she would have preferred to stay with him, she knew he had wanted her safety above all.

Where was he now? Was he even _alive_?

No. She forbade herself to think such things. Adam would find a way. He always found a way.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Belle studied her surroundings. She was still dizzy and weak, but she could make out a few houses and other structures in the light of the dying day. She needed to get there before sunset, for who knew what lurked in small town ports after dark. With a little luck, she would find an inn whose owner would be willing to shelter her. She would do the dishes and mop and clean in return, of course. She desperately needed a place to sleep. Then she could think of a way to save Adam and Plumette.

She forced herself onto her feet and walked to a first row of houses. Suspicious of their dark windows, she did not knock, but continued walking. A second row appeared behind the first, and here some of the houses were alive with the sound of people stirring inside.

Belle knocked tentatively on the first house she encountered, praying the laughter she heard inside was indeed that of children, and not a figment of her imagination. A middle-aged man opened the door, squinting into the darkening evening.

"Hello," Belle tried to sound as friendly as possible, "I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, but I would like to ask if –"

" _Lo siento, no hablo francés_ ," the man interrupted, shaking his head.

Belle bit her lip and tried again, this time switching from French to English. The man shook his head once more and turned away from Belle. " _Lucía_ ," he called someone inside the house, " _Lucía, ¡ven aquí!"_

A few moments later a young woman appeared at the door, wearing a dirty apron. The man asked her something in Spanish, and her eyes gleamed with curiosity. She turned to Belle and spoke to her in heavily accented French. "I am sorry; my father does not speak French or English."

"But you speak both?" Belle tried not to sound too surprised.

"Yes. I – I enjoy reading, you see. Very much. All that I know I learned from books," the girl twisted her apron in her fists.

"I understand," Belle beamed at Lucía, giving her a complicit look. The girl smiled back. "I'm sorry to disturb you and your family," Belle continued, "but I am in need of assistance. May you tell me where I can find an inn?"

Lucía was thoughtful for a moment. "There are no inns here; this is a small fishing town, we don't see strangers around here very often."

"Oh," Belle uttered, and she felt all hope seeping out of her.

"But," Lucía started, hesitated, then went on, "but I think you can stay with us, if you wish." She immediately turned to her father and spoke to him in Spanish. The man nodded a few times, and Lucía smiled. "Yes," she addressed Belle once more, "you may stay with us for as long as you like."

The girl seemed overjoyed by this possibility, but Belle was certain her own joy had no equal. She had found a place to stay, and now she could let her mind roam freely and devise a plan to save Adam and Plumette. Thanking Lucía and her father profusely, she promised she would be helpful around the house. They invited her inside, introduced her to the rest of the family – a mother, three sons and a dog – and offered her food and water. Grateful but also famished, Belle devoured what they gave her before retiring to the small futon they had installed for her under the stairs.

The next morning, Belle woke up to the smell of fish and seawater, and people speaking in Spanish. For a terrible second, she thought she was still aboard the merchant ship. But she opened her eyes and remembered the previous night. With a sigh, she pushed herself off the futon and headed to the kitchen, where she was offered breakfast and water.

Well rested and fed, Belle found she had regained her strength. She spent the day helping around the house, cleaning and cooking alongside Lucía, who proved to be a pleasant companion. While bathing Lucía's younger brother Adelmo, the girl revealed that her mother was suffering from an unknown illness and had to be constantly taken care of. Belle vowed to treat her as she would her own mother, were she alive. At this Lucía bit her lower lip thoughtfully.

"I am sorry for your loss," she said, after a pause.

"Oh, no, I never really knew my mother," Belle replied, pouring water unto young Adelmo and hearing him giggle with glee, "she died when I was an infant."

Lucía did not respond, rubbing soap over her brother's back and nodding absent-mindedly.

The day went on in an agreeable mood, although Belle's thoughts were continuously drawn to Adam and the terrible pirate ship. Before retiring to bed, she asked Lucía for a pen a paper; she had a letter to write.

"We have no pens, but I could tear paper from my books," the girl offered, looking a bit ashamed.

"Is there anywhere here in town where I could find what I need to write and send a letter?" Belle asked, getting nervous by the minute and once again feeling her hope and courage escape her.

"You should ask Padre Chavez, he is our priest and he is literate. I believe you can find him at the chapel at this hour. But be quick, the docks aren't safe after dark."

And so Belle hurried across the small town to the chapel, where she met Padre Chavez and asked him for a pen and paper. The priest was an old man who spoke fluent French and welcomed Belle with a benevolent smile. He reminded her of Père Robert, and she immediately trusted him.

"Padre," she told him, after receiving the pen and paper, "I would be most obliged if you could post this letter. I need to send it to France without delay; it's a matter of great importance to me."

"Very well, you can write it here and give it to me; I shall post it tomorrow morning," the grey haired priest nodded.

Belle tried to convey her gratitude as best she could. "How can I possibly thank you, Padre?"

The old man laughed indulgently. "There is no need for thanks, my child," he smiled, "it is but a small favor. And I do encourage you to keep writing. There aren't many educated people in this village; much less educated women."

Belle quickly wrote her letter and handed it to Padre Chavez, thanking him again.

As she went to bed that night, she thought of all the kindness she was being shown. The world was not a cold, barren place after all. And though evil existed, she felt sure that goodness would prevail.


	4. Chapter 4

I. Shadows

Adam watched his shadow dance around the cell, stirred by the flickering light of a candle. Plumette's breathing was heavy and slow – she was asleep. Under his feet, Adam could feel the ship creek. The wood moaned and whined as the vessel was rocked by the waves. There was no silence here, everything was alive.

Adam's eyelids fluttered as he kept his gaze fixed on his deformed shadow. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he rested his back against the bars of this prison cell. Outside the wind whispered against the ship's hull.

 _How I long for you, Belle_.

He let himself think of her, so proud and so strong, so beautiful and so true. He let himself think of her delicate fingers caressing the back of his hand, her teeth shining in the gloom when she smiled at him, when they were alone, when they were together. _Together_.

She never left him. She was still by his side at this very moment, and he drew strength from her. Memories flooded his mind and he let them in.

He remembered her the first night, shivering from the cold and the fear and the _anger_ , and how her rage had surprised him. He remembered her boldness, her chin pointed high. He remembered her stubbornness, the challenge in her voice, in her eyes.

She would survive. She would find her way home.

And he would love her fiercely, passionately, until he found her again. From his love he would draw courage and force. He would find his own way home.

He would find his way back to her, as she had found her way back to him the first time.

Rocked by the ship's slow motions, Adam found himself dreaming of nights and days in the sun. The smell of clean sheets and Belle's hair, the softest of touches, a giggle, her voice… He was making love to her, slowly, very slowly, and she was smiling up at him, her hair curling in whirlpools on the pillow. Her thighs were squeezing his hips, holding him there, _oh Adam, this is heaven!_ And her lips trembled with pleasure, her tongue peeked out and licked at his neck, and he knew he would come undone… _Not yet, not now, give me more!_ And he gave her all he had, heart and body and soul, he gave in to her and lost himself in her.

He woke up in the morning, just in time to see the skinny one-eyed pirate come in with their meal, as usual. Plumette was awake as well, and they both stared at the walls, not eating, not speaking, each consumed by their own shadow.


	5. Chapter 5

The Letter

 _My friend Lumiere,_

 _I am afraid terrible news compels me to write to you. On our way to the West Indies, our ship, the_ Indomptable _, has been ambushed and taken by pirates. I have been lucky enough to escape, but Prince Adam and Mademoiselle Plumette are still aboard._

 _At the time I am writing this, it has been exactly four days since the attack and capture of the_ Indomptable _'s crew and passengers. I dread to imagine their current state. I fear for our friends' safety._

 _I beg you to join me at once – I am in a small fishing town in Cuba, called Cojímar. I shall be staying with a family here, and I shall be safe._

 _You must commission a strong ship and a reliable crew in Adam's name. We need it if we are to save our friends. I don't care what you must do to acquire it – commandeer a ship for all I care, but it simply must be done._

 _When you arrive, head immediately for the chapel and ask for me._

 _I can count on no one else but you, my friend. Please make haste._

 _Belle._


End file.
